The Empress' New Clothes

Baby’s got back. She’s got junk in her trunk. And by “she” I mean me.

I love manifesting. That is, having an idea, putting it out there, releasing my attachment to the outcome and then discovering the delightful way in which it comes to me. For instance, the other day I was quite bored with my wardrobe. I wanted new clothes. That afternoon I went for a walk with Groom and we stopped by the Post Office.

Turning the key and opening the metal door of our postbox is always a thrill as I anticipate it to be full of goodies, surprises, cool cards, fat checks, affectionate notes, missives from far away lands, invitations to dine and miscellaneous greetings.

I was not disappointed. Inside was a notification that I had a package. Standing in line, I felt like a kid at Christmas. What might it be?? When it was finally my turn, a postal worker sporting a jazzy comb-over handed me a box. I made myself wait until we were back at the homestead to open it.

Slicing through the packing tape with a lime green box-knife and lifting away the tissue paper finally revealed several layers of beautiful fabric. Wait a minute, not fabric, clothes! Accompanied by a card, the handwritten note from my cousin in California (named Frida Maria) explained that she had been inspired to design new outfits for me.

I was so excited, I couldn’t wait to try them all on.

Uh-oh.

My backside is much bigger than either of us realized. There’s a big gap where the clothes don’t fit. When I thanked her profusely, I admitted the size discrepancy as she was telling me about some more designing ideas.

Her solution? She made herself a fake bottom for a more accurate fit. A faux bottom, imagine!

Shall we take a peek at the junk in my trunk? Yes, I’ve been dragging baggage around with me and also working deliberately to let it go.

On Saturday, a vendor I’d never noticed before stopped me as I walked past his booth. He engaged me in conversation and made an observation saying, “You look like a very happy person.”

Admittedly, this is still a fresh, new feeling and his comment took me by surprise. I don’t know why I confessed this (little vestiges of my story still clinging perhaps?), but I replied that until recently, I had been a very angry person (Okay, before you mention it, yes, I just now realize I need to stop saying that. You are witnessing the last trace of something no longer in existence disappearing into this moment. Thank you).

His candor took me to the next level of surprise. “For you to be so angry, you must have been victimized.”

His words struck like an arrow to the center of my heart. We’re not talking sweet, valentine cupidy arrows with red fluff, but sharp, hitting-the-target with accuracy poisoned tips. I felt the wind knocked out of me. His face was so kind and because he was speaking with such compassion, I had a moment of clarity, seeing the bigger picture.

“That’s an old story,” I said, “stuff I’m leaving behind.”

Or was it? His use of the word “victimized” set my teeth on edge. Recognition can be humbling because this next part is humiliating to admit. I’ve been victimizing myself and blaming others for it. Until this weekend, I’ve been using other people and what they say, don’t say, do or don’t do as excuses for my moods.

I carry gigantic, nay, colossal, mammoth, grandiose expectations. Expectations that other people will behave in certain ways in order to make me feel good, and darmnit, if they don’t keep letting me down.

I have put my emotional well being in the hands of other people and then feel victimized by the smallest of things. No really, they are ridiculous. In fact, the smaller the “slight,” the more pain they seem to inflict. A glance I can’t interpret, someone choosing to sit in a chair across from me rather than immediately next to me, a thank you I feel warranted that does not come, someone taking longer to answer via email that I think is appropriate.

This is how I am victimized. Can you believe it? When I write this out loud, I am cringing. Why stop there? I look for rejection everywhere. As a friend says, “You go where you look.”

When I look for rejection, I find it. Evidence is everywhere to support my belief, whether it is a useful one or not. I also get plenty of praise, but as that does not fit the old program of Rejection I’ve been running, why pay as much attention to that?

When I feel rejected, it is because I am attending and nurturing my ego, the smaller, undeveloped part of myself composed of a thousand little hurts.

When I am attending and nurturing my spirit, things look very different to me. When I reframe my view through the eyes of Love, I see others as individual reflections of the Divine, each unique and beautiful, doing the best he or she can.

I carry my weight around my belly and bum, second chakra: Money, self-worth, sexuality, and creativity. As the clothing attests, I have a gap. Not everything fits anymore.

I could look at the ill-fitting clothes as an excuse to feel bad. In fact, it’s so tempting to allow just about anything as my excuse to get out of the flow. I’m not sure why my ego’s favorite flavor of mood is to feel like mierde?

However, I could also consider the gap as a signpost that I’m expanding and that it’s all behind me now. As I look in the mirror, it’s more empowering to understand it’s simply a reflection of where I am rather than making up a story about what anybody else is doing to me.

And with that, I shall bid you adieu.

Instant Messaging

Due to record-breaking temperatures in the Emerald Valley, Groom and I jumped in our chariot and headed for the beach to get a whiff of sea air and to cool these hot bodies down.

Remember the olden days when you could toss a blanket and some snacks in the horseless carriage and get out of Dodge within minutes of deciding?

Now, of course, I have to remember to pack the cell phone, the iPod, the digital camera, the laptop computer along with all their cords, battery packs and chargers. Yes, technology has certainly lightened my load.

I.M. stands for instant messaging and “I am” are the two most powerful words in the English language, releasing creative energy from the Divine. Pulling on the thread from last week, the Universe is actually the real Instant Messenger, providing us with continuous feedback and updates second by second if we are “plugged in.”

Imagine if you will, that whatever you are looking at is one gigantic screen and everything happening around you is simply your energy projected onto that screen to watch like a movie.

For the sake of clarification, let me give you an example from Sunday. A friend called and asked me to meet him in the park to talk (Groom was cool with it as my absence provided him with open play time on the computer!).

As Friend and I both live in the same neighborhood, the walk to the park was easy and the two of us were the first people there, unusual for a sunny day.

This friend was pretty distraught and while expressing his feelings, people started arriving at the park one by one. I was intent on giving him my undivided attention, but I couldn’t quite achieve it as I became aware of just how accurate that movie screen description was.

While Friend narrated his story it was as if the people in the park were actors sent to play it out. Right on cue, when he said how sad he felt, a very dejected man entered the park stage left, slumped on a bench, and sighed heartfelt sighs worthy of Shakespeare.

I have to back up for a moment, well actually rewind about 24 hours earlier. On Saturday morning, while asking Wisdom to guide me, the name Violet immediately entered my head. As I don’t know a Violet, I considered the flower and the color. Violet is the color of the crown chakra, the connecting energy center in our bodies to aligning with God.

Now, back to the park. A woman in a green dress began flitting from person to person, arresting people with her eyes and unusual style of initiating conversation. It didn’t take long to realize she was higher than a kite, but that didn’t lessen the amusement.

The first time she skittered past the two of us, Friend was outlining the complicated plot of his soap opera. She was not close enough to hear about the tangled web he wove, but as she approached, she mumbled something under her breath. I caught it though and when she passed, laughed and shared her insight.

“Kiss, kiss,” she had said, and then proceeded to spell it out. “K*I*S*S. Keep It Simple, Stupid.”

We were hooked and took her advice. He paused his story while we watched her zig-zag all over the park, each person she approached looking around for the camera to see if they were being punk’d.

She finally came around again and told us “they were trying to get rid of half of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” Just then, a man from India came from the other direction and she gasped, announcing most sincerely that he was “a saint.” Her demeanor shifted as she became reverent and honored to be in his presence.

The Indian Saint blushed from being outed by the acid-trip princess, gave us the Namaste bow along with a benevolent smile and continued on his way.

The movie at the park was about to get even more interesting...

The green dress lady said a few more unintelligible things about Uncle Tom and then resumed what appeared to be a heated conversation with an invisible man (at least to us) on our right. She tried to introduce us, but perhaps the guy she was talking to (Uncle Tom?) couldn’t see us and thought she was a bit of a wackadoodle.

It would have been easy to dismiss her ramblings, except for the last part. She started to move on, then backed up, looked directly at me and said…are you ready? She said, “Oh, and by the way, I’m Violet. Stay in love.”

I almost peed my pants.

I told Friend about the name Violet entering my head in a gentle, breezy manner the day before. His ears perked up and the direction of our conversation shifted. I mentioned the immediacy of Energetic Messages and his curiosity piqued. We leaned back and decided to watch.

He quickly observed that his story was being played out in the park. As I shared my celestial instant messaging beliefs, he decided to join in and pointed out the two side-by-side blue doors that had just grabbed his attention. The one to the right had “Hold It” scrawled across and the other said “poo.”

Friend had been tempted to crawl back into his dark hole of depression, but reading the sign to “Hold it” made him realize he was at choice. To have a door actually marked “poo” made him laugh and he told me he didn’t want to open the “poo door.”

Many more things continued to unfold and as we sat there, he saw his own energy reflected back to him and he began to learn the art of interpretation.

Later that night I received a telephone call from him. He had gone home and shared the experience with a friend, including our encounter with our “guide” Violet. His friend was amazed because his old nickname had been Violet.

Then, as if that weren’t enough, they had gone out for a burger and their waiter told them his wife had recently given birth. Any guesses what they named their daughter???

Sparked by all the Violet references, he told me he had looked up the meaning of the word and the color is often used to enhance creativity and dissolve barriers.

Did you think the Violet connections ended there? Of course not. This very afternoon, while sitting in our favorite spot on our favorite beach, Groom is reading Alice in Wonderland and who shows up on the page but the talking flowers. One, apparently, had never spoken before and startled Alice. Would it startle you to learn this communicative blossom was a Violet?

What’s the big deal, you might ask, so what if we encountered several references to a particular purple flower?

If something happens one time, that’s enough to notice, but two times becomes a pattern. Here’s a simple rule for interpreting energy: If it gets your attention, PAY attention.

The point is that Friend felt confused and a bit lost. By introducing the idea that he was capable of reading his own energy, I passed along a map. If you know how to find where you are then you can get to where you want to be.

Most of us dwell in the past on Memory Lane or reside in future-Tripsville. Regardless of the population explosion, the Present is not very crowded, because few people actually live here.

The present is often new territory and having a way to read the landmarks is not only beneficial but amazingly fun.

Speaking of fun, our day at the beach was a grand one. I hope all of you are enjoying your summer. Namaste.